Without a Trace
by littleSpud
Summary: Beatrice Prior was orphaned at the age of 17, when her mother and father, the senator of Pennsylvania, were murdered in front of her. Now at the age of 23 she is a rookie FBI agent, whose personal vendetta is to find the terrorist group behind her parents' death, no matter what the cost. Will she be able to do it? Or does life have another plan for Agent Prior? *I own nothing*
1. Prologue

_**Prologue **_

_It's finally spring again, I can feel the life being breathed back into the Earth. The trees are gaining back their luscious color, tiny creatures are learning to speak to the world around them, and the sun's rays are gentle and warming. I've always loved spring._

"_Beatrice," my mother's voice and tender hand on my arm stop me, "promise me you won't do anything foolish this time? I don't think your father could withstand a repeat of the Winter Ball."_

"_He had it coming," I huff out, no matter what they tell me I will not apologize for slapping Peter._

_She smiles, "I have no doubt," she whispers, "however for your father's sake please don't do it again?"_

_I know she believes me; she's never liked Peter either. Nodding, I agree and she gives my arm a squeeze before walking to join my father near the entrance to the gardens. I watch them as my father leans down to give her a sweet kiss; he's never been afraid of showing his affection for my mother, even publically. _

"_You ready to get this over with," Caleb asks quietly from behind me. I can't help but smirk; at least I have someone to share my suffering with. With our father being a senator, and close friends with our President, Marcus Eaton, we attend a lot of formal events, charity fundraisers, galas, anything that passes as an excuse for the women to spend thousands of dollars on a dress, and for the men to drink socially. _

"_I really don't understand why we have to go with them every time," he complains. _

"_Let me guess there's a new book out about quantum physics and you're just dying to read it," I tease him. He's brilliant, really, but he isn't much one for socializing. _

_Scowling, "At least I do well in school," he quips. _

_I wave him off, "I do fine," I may not be Ivy League bound like him, but I have never received a mark below a B. _

_Deciding to drop the conversation he offers me his arm and we make our way into the gardens. _

_It's a large party, with an oversized white tent in the middle and formal tables systemically fanned out around the makeshift stage. A navy blue banner stretched wide with 'Pittsburg Safe Harbor Foundation: Raising Money for those in Need' stamped out in white letters. _

_Well at least that answers the question of what the event is for. _

_A few hours later everyone is finishing their meals, chatting amongst their tables about whatever new gossip they might have. Mom and dad are talking in hushed whispers, my mother looking more and more flustered by the second. I'm about to ask what might be wrong, but before I can speak a man at the podium taps on the mic. _

"_Good afternoon Ladies and Gentlemen," he smiles too broadly, "thank-you for taking the time to be here with us on this very special day. As you all know, we have been striving to raise funds to begin new projects across the city, opening up more homes and soup kitchens to accommodate for our growing homeless population, which is no easy feat. However here today to talk more about our projects we have our very own Senator, Mr. Andrew Prior." As the crowd clapped politely, my parents stood and made their way towards the stage, though not before my mother leaned in between Caleb and I, "If anything happens here, you both need to run, find somewhere safe to stay until you know it is safe," she whispered. Then straightening up she took my father's hand and they continued towards the stage, as though she had not just whispered the most cryptic message to her children. _

_Looking to my right I saw Caleb was as concerned as I was, "What was that," he choked out as quietly as he could manage, his voice tinged with panic. _

"_I don't know," I answered, trailing off as my father began to welcome everyone to the fundraiser. _

_I phased out, not hearing my father's speech about the homeless population, or how the projects were supposed to bring hope to those people across the city. Yet the only thing I could pay attention to was my father's white knuckles as he gripped the podium as though it were his lifeline, and my mother's emotionless face as she quietly stood behind him. _

_Another round of applause sounded as another man made his way up towards the stage, most likely to elaborate upon more of their plans. However as soon as the man neared the stage shouting broke out near the gate, followed by a deafening bang._

_Chaos erupted._

_The ladies screamed, latching onto their husbands' arms, while their husbands rushed to stand and run. Children broke out into screams of their own, mingling with their sobs. _

_I felt a hand latch onto my own arm and turned to find Caleb's face a mix of fear and confusion._

"_We need to find mo-,"_

_Bang._

_Caleb and I both flinched, this time the sound was closer. _

"_We need to find mom and dad," I yelled, hoping he could hear me over the chaos. But my words fell on deaf ears, and turning towards the stage I saw why, my mother was sprawled out across the stage floor, a crimson circle staining her soft yellow sundress._

"_Mom," I choked out, before pushing Caleb out of the way, running for the stage, running for my mother._

_Scrambling across the cold metal floor, I reached her, her eyes were wide and glossy, her lips the same shade of red as that of the stain on her dress._

"_Mom," I choked out again, brushing my hand across her clammy forehead. Her eyes found mine, though now all I could see in them was fear. Fear for me. _

_Bang. _

_It sounded again, though this time I didn't look up, I couldn't, I could only look at her._

"_Please, mom, please, don't go," I leaned over, trying to compress her stomach, trying to stop that damned red stain from spreading. _

"_Tris," I felt his hand on my shoulder and looked up, he already had tears in his eyes. Looking back at her face I found her eyes closed, as her chest stilled after its last breath._

_Someone fell to their knees beside her, and as I recognized my father's wedding band as he stretched a trembling hand towards her body, the sound rang out again._

_Bang._

_Time froze._

_Looking up into my father's face I saw shock, and as he slowly fell forward I saw in his eyes the same fear that had haunted my mother's no more than a minute ago. _

"_Dad," Caleb yelled from behind me, as he rushed to our father's side, turning him onto his back, revealing the crimson stain that I already knew would be there. _

_This can't be happening._

_This isn't happening. _

_That was all I could think._

_As I looked up, desperately hoping for some sign, something, anything that tell me this was just a terrible nightmare, instead I met the hazel eyes behind the gun. _

_He stared back at me, all but his eyes, hidden behind a mask. _

_Then he turned and ran through the crowd, I noticed he wasn't alone, three others followed him out of the chaos, disappearing without a trace. _

_Turning back towards my family I saw Caleb slumped over our father's unmoving chest, his shoulders fiercely shaking. Staring down at my mother I let my pain, my fear, my loss, wash over me, as the first tear slipped down my cheek._

* * *

**And so it begins, please review, any and all feedback is appreciated. **


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

_**Tris**_

The loud ring of my alarm pierced the still air, jolting me awake from my restless sleep. Grumbling I rolled over, glancing at the time, 5:00, sighing I hit snooze deciding five more minutes wouldn't kill me.

Forty minutes later I was showered and dressed in a light button down blouse and navy slacks, trying to tame my long thick blonde hair into a passable bun. My mother always managed to make her buns look sleek and flawless; mine however always looked like a crazy mess of loose strands. Sliding another bobby pin into place for precautionary measures I huffed and decided to let it be. Then slipping on a pair of black flats I headed for the kitchen, deciding a coffee to go was definitely in order.

By six o'clock I was locking the front door of my small apartment in downtown Chicago, eager to get to my car in hopes of still beating the rush hour traffic. Being from Pennsylvania it's not that I'm unaccustomed to traffic and all its nuances, however driving in a big city like Chicago, not to mention at rush hour on Monday morning, was a whole new ball game, one I wanted to avoid on my first day as an official FBI agent.

While I drive I marvel at how far I've come, my parents raised my brother and I to not be overly proud, yet I can't help but take pride in what I have done. I graduated from the academy with top honors and went through the entire application process, and now a few years later I've finally accomplished everything I've worked for, special agent status. I smile to myself, they would be proud, at least I like to think so; they're why I'm doing this, their deaths are what motivated me to do this.

Suddenly I'm yanked from my thoughts as a horn blares from behind me, reminding me to move, as the light is now green. Feeling slightly agitated, as the blaring was unnecessary, I turn onto Roosevelt then turn to enter the underground garage, the obnoxious driver still behind me.

Passing the small security booth I pull into a spot that matches my permit and start gathering my things, as I swing my door open another horn blares and the same BMW from earlier flies into the spot beside mine. Straightening up I smooth my shirt, hoping to hide my racing heart and thankful for the poor garage lighting hiding the redness of my cheeks. Turning to close my car door I take a deep breath preparing to round on the neurotic asshole that felt compelled to nearly hit me, but before I can get a word out I freeze.

Standing by the driver's door of his glamorous BMW i8 is the most intimidating yet alluring man I have ever seen. His startlingly blue eyes peek out from under his furrowed brow, while his mouth is set in a firm straight line, "Can I help you," he nearly barks out.

Taken aback and also slightly offended by his condescending tone, "Yeah learn to drive asshole," I bite out. His eyes widen before narrowing again, clearly not expecting that response, "Excuse me," he commands.

Deciding to not honor his attitude with a response I glare at him a moment longer before turning and heading into the large glass doors just off to the side.

Sometime later I've received my badge and a building security debriefing by a girl named Marlene, and now I'm in a large industrial like elevator with another agent, Pedrad, though he prefers for me to call him Uriah, who despite my lack of responsiveness is talking incessantly about training and how much I'll enjoy my time here.  
"So where are you from," he asks drawing me back into the conversation.

"Pennsylvania, you?"

"Really? That's awesome," he grins, "I'm from here, Chicago born and raised," he runs his hands down his suit lapels and puffs out his chest. I chuckle, "Well it's quite the city," I smile, thinking he seems nice enough.

"The more you get to know it, the more you'll love it," he assures me. His eyes light up, "Hey you should come out with a bunch of us for drinks on Friday after work, it's kind of a tradition amongst us younger agents, plus it'd be a great way for you to get to know everyone."

I tell him I'll think about it and let him know as we reach the top floor and step off the elevator.

He guides me through a few doors and then introduces me to another girl this one named Lynn, who tells me to take a seat while I wait for Associate Deputy Director Roberts to come and get me. Choosing a chair along the sidewall I sit and review everything in my portfolio while waiting for the director to come and call me back. Five minutes pass before a medium size well built man in a black suit approaches me and introduces himself as Max, the Deputy Director.

He ushers me into his large office, with windows stretching from floor to ceiling behind a large cherry wood desk. I sit into one of the oversized chairs situated in front of his desk, slightly sinking into their plush material.

"It's nice to finally meet the infamous Beatrice Prior," he chuckles as he spins his large leather desk chair around so he can sit.

"The honor is mine, sir," I return.

He chuckles again at this, "Ah, yes, Amar told me you were quite the proper one," I can't help but smile at the mention of Amar. Not only was he one of my first instructors at the academy, but we became close friends as well. "You don't always have to be so formal with me," I give him a slight nod; curious as to where his strange laid back demeanor comes from, it's not what I expected from a director.

"So, I know you have quite the reputation at the academy, I believe one of your fellow recruits described you as feisty," he's smirking like my entire reputation is funny.

"I guess that's one word for it," I try to keep my tone neutral; hoping it won't betray my frustration with his humor.

"Yes, well in that case, I suppose it's time for you to meet your partner," he laughs again, making it seem like this entire conversation is leading to one big punch line.

"Four," he shouts while quirking an eyebrow at me as he now casually leans against his desk.

A minute later I can hear the glass doors behind me opening and closing, "Max," a strangely familiar voice says, then it registers, that voice, oh no. No, no, no, this isn't happening. Turning around while silently praying that this is some sort of sick initiation joke, I come face to face with none other than the BMW asshole from this morning.

"Meet your new partner," Max states, and I nearly groan as realization dawns on me.

"You've got to be shitting me," 'Four' huffs out, and in this moment I can't help but agree with him.

* * *

**Okay, so that is the first chapter set in the present. I know these chapters are short, but they'll get longer as the story progresses. Thank-you all the reviews, and support, I love all feedback, so please keep it up.**


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